This week has been a bit fraught, to say the least. Having graduated in the summer I set about finding a decent job. Needless to say, ten weeks worth of jobs pages and not a sausage made me, shall we say, a tad more reckless than I would normally have been. So anyway, I applied for a job for a big employer (who shall remain nameless), doing a long named job (also unimportant in the grand scheme of things) and bugger me, if I didnt bloody get it! To say I was surprised is like saying the popes a bit religious!!!
Having been in post (they say that you know, in post!) for a few weeks now and having survived the heart murmur that accompanied my first payslip in eight years, Im in a funny mood. The whole prioritise and diarise culture has totally bypassed me for the last few years. Being a single mother, scumbag doley and mature student/dosser will do that for a girl! However, it would appear that the rest of the planet (at least those well used to payslips) are well versed in the subtle skill of fitting meetings into windows and keeping everyone in the loop! I meanwhile bumble along, moth eaten paper diary (freebie from my go getter dad), scribbling in meetings, only to have to reschedule them because someone cant make it afterall. The joys of windows outlook electronic diary whatsit remain (blissfully) as relevant to me as well, an inability to sustain an erection (having no penis to maintain an erection with!).
So here we are, me going to meeting with awfully serious, awfully politically correct heads of departments, biting my lip almost continually so as not to laugh out loud at themor worse. I had not an inkling that when I finally got there, the world of work would be so littleummm, work!
Maybe Im just a bit long in the tooth, maybe all these years Ive actually been a really hardworker but just didnt realise it. One thing I do know, juggling the meetings might be proving a challenge but the actual work part is a piece of piss! Im reeling from being in a job that I actually enjoy doing. I get up in the morning and Im planning my day BEFORE I get there! Years of working as a shop assistant in crappy clothes shops (names withheld to protect the not so innocent) indoctrinated me into the soul destroying, miserable work ethic that was built on legions of single mums, teenage kids and unskilled families, all content to earn minimum wage, while they unwittingly died a slow and mind numbing death, filling shelves and folding jumpers. And only now, having done my time, so to speak, having suffered at the hands of equally miserable and pitifully paid, fascist managers of shoe shops and supermarkets the length and breath of the land can I really see the truth. Much to my constant surprise, getting an education and expecting something more ACTUALLY does pay dividends afterall! To think, I spent thirty years thinking that the highlight of my working life would be getting first dibs on the January sale stock and avoiding stock take over the New Year.
So here I am, well past thirty, still unmarried and living in social housing but guess what? Happy at last. Those years of being in a traditional family unit, in a suitably bland, three bed semi (with garden and quiet cul de sac location) may have seemed the stuff that success is made of, but years later and Id beg to differ. The best thing I ever did was become a one woman clich, single mum and scruffy student and I wouldnt change a thing.
Piece submitted by Sarah Martin
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